


Dork I'd Like to Fuck

by Domokoru



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Age Play, Bubble Bath, Creampie, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Kink Discovery, Kink Exploration, Male Solo, Masturbation, Nicknames, Non-Sexual Age Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Requited Unrequited Love, Roleplay, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship, Sexual Roleplay, Stealth Masturbation, Vaginal Sex, italic abuse, no betas we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28068810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domokoru/pseuds/Domokoru
Summary: Professor Sycamore lets it slip that he had a daughter.Emmy, as a Daddy's girl, takes notice.
Relationships: Emmy Altava/Desmond Sycamore
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Dork I'd Like to Fuck

**Author's Note:**

> Mild spoilers for the entire second trilogy of the series.
> 
> This fic is inspired by daddy kink stuff sounding fun, then I read it and it's all, like, weirdly mean? I wanted NICE daddy!!

Emmy paced around her room in the Bostonius, biting the nail of her thumb to curb her anxiety. The day, hell, the entire Azran expedition had started without issue. Why was she feeling this way _now?_

The day had began normally enough. Emmy, Professor Layton, Luke, Aurora, and Professor Sycamore had all been helping Umid investigate the cause of the hypersomnia plaguing the adult population of Mosinnia. Somehow, the conversation had resulting in Professor Sycamore letting it slip that he'd had a daughter, now passed away. Emmy shook her head to herself. There were so many acceptable emotional reactions to have: sympathy, surprise, curiosity, _anything._ But no. Something about hearing the Professor had been a _father_ made her tingle all over.

Emmy had never had a crush or infatuation with anyone, especially not a man. Especially not an older man. _Especially_ not an older man who was a colleague of her employer. Before he uttered those words, she'd seen Professor Sycamore in a proper manner. He was an acquaintance, a world-renowned archeologist, a matter-of-fact man of science. No more, no less. Now, for the past few hours since he mentioned having a daughter and everyone had returned to the Bostonius for the evening, her head was swirling with unorthodox observations. How had she not noticed how tall he was? Or his broad, strong-looking shoulders? Or his calloused yet delicate hands? His voice was so deep, she could hear it reverberate from rooms away. He was always looking out for Luke and Aurora, and Emmy just now realized it was almost in a paternalistic way. He even told dad jokes, for god's sake! With that one tidbit of information, everything about his mannerisms made sense, and every one of his odd quirks became insanely attractive.

Emmy's father had passed when she was a child, but she was still old enough to remember his love, even if his features blurred in her mind as the years went by. Though she didn't think of him too often, sometimes she would miss him sorely. Emmy realized her and Professor Sycamore resembled two pieces of the same broken jigsaw puzzle. Finally, she could put a face to her sore want to be patted on the head and praised for being good, or to have someone to turn to when she felt scared and weak. She had Uncle Leon, sure, but he'd made it clear that Emmy was to only display strength and discipline at all times; he definitely wasn't the kind of person to go to for comfort. Professor Sycamore, on the other hand...

Emmy stopped biting her nails and took a few deep breaths before walking out to the lounge of the ship. Most everyone had turned in to their rooms for the evening, except for one. Sitting on one of the purple couches reading a scientific journal was Professor Sycamore, as she guessed he would be from many encounters as she went to and from the kitchen on her midnight snack runs. Emmy sat down near him.

"Um... Hi."

The professor looked up from his reading material, not having realized she was there.

"Oh. Good evening."

"I..." Emmy paused to consider her words. "You said you had a kid, right? A daughter?" A shadow passed over the professor's face.

"Hah. I thought I had successfully avoided that line of questioning." He said flatly.

"No, u-um, you don't have to talk about it!" Emmy stammered. _What am I doing here again!?_ "I just wanted to say that I can relate. I lost my father when I was little. I can at least remember him, not my mother though..." She looked at the professor. "In fact, I think the last time I saw him, he was about your age." Sycamore merely blinked in response. "Just... If you ever need to talk, I'm here, and I get it. That's all." The man smiled sadly at her.

"That's kind of you. Thank you, Emmy." He put his journal down and sat in silence next to her, until Emmy broke it.

"Sometimes, I really do miss him." Emmy said, mostly to herself, though she was loud enough for Sycamore to overhear her.

"It's been reassuring to have someone with both brawn and brains to travel with." He turned his head to face her. "I'm positive your father would be very proud to see the stellar young woman you've become." Hearing him praise her with that deep, breathy voice of his made her shiver. The professor noticed her shake, inadvertently showing off his fatherly instinct once again. "Oh dear, are you cold? Let me fetch you a blanket."

 _Oh god. He totally saw that._ Emmy thought to herself. The man came back with a blanket, draping it over her shoulders. Emmy shuddered again at the way his hands ghosted uncomfortably close to her back. She pulled the blanket around herself, leaning into the assumption he'd made so he wouldn't suspect anything. The blanket had obviously been used recently, considering it even _smelled_ like Sycamore's cologne. This was beginning to get dangerous. Regardless of the situation, Emmy betrayed nothing and laid back into the couch. There was no reason for her to be out here instead of in her own room, but it was just so warm and comfortable, she didn't have it in her to get up. Slowly, she shut her eyes and drifted into sleep.

Professor Sycamore, still absorbed in his reading, didn't notice Emmy had fallen asleep until he felt her head lean onto his shoulder. Figuring he should go back to his room to leave her space to lay down, the professor moved to stand up from the couch. As he shifted, Emmy mumbled in her sleep.

"Mm... Don't go... Daddy..." Professor Sycamore flushed in surprise at her words, his ears turning red as she punctuated her statement by gripping at his arm. He didn't know what would be an appropriate course of action to take in this sort of situation.

"Erm..." The man looked down at her. "D-Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere." He said, softening his voice. Emmy sighed happily and leaned harder into his arm.

"I love you..." Her eyes fluttered open for a brief second. "Dadd-EEEP!??" Emmy's eyes shot open as she realized what she was doing and let go of his arm, knocking her blanket off and shuffling backwards to the opposite end of the sofa. Nearly hyperventilating in embarrassment, she covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh my god, I-I'm sorry, Professor, I-I-I..." She moved her hands up to cover her entire face.

"It's all right. Nobody's awake at this hour; nobody saw anything." He tried to reassure her. The girl mumbled something in response, muffled by her hands. "Hmm?"

"But _you_ saw." Emmy repeated, not daring to look in his direction. The professor shrugged.

"You were only dreaming, right? I wouldn't blame you for something as innocuous as that."

 _"Only dreaming..."_ Emmy thought to herself, _What if it's more than that?_ Her face turned a darker shade of red as she hid it behind her hands. She could feel her eyes beginning to water. The best thing for this situation would be to go back to her room as fast as possible, but she still wasn't in a state to get up, especially not now.

 _She must really miss her father._ The professor thought sadly after hearing her start to sniffle quietly. He didn't even know how to handle his own grief, let alone that of a young woman. Sliding over to meet her at her end of the couch, he tentatively reached a hand out to pat Emmy's shoulder.

"There, there. It's going to be okay." Sycamore murmured as he rubbed her back. A shudder started at her tailbone and rippled up her spine at his touch. "Ah!" He pulled his hand away. "Sorry..." Emmy shook her head and moved her hands down, away from her face. Figuring there was no point in resisting, she flopped against the professor's side and looked up at him, pleading silently.

The man looked into her deep brown eyes, glimmering with loneliness. Putting the pieces that were her erratic movements and deep red blush, Sycamore could wager a guess on what her expression meant. Even at the risk of being wrong, the man weaved his arm down her back and to her opposite side, pulling her closer. He pressed his cheek against the top of her head and let his face rest there. The girl trembled a bit again.

"It's okay... Daddy's here." Sycamore murmured. "Everything's going to be all right..." Emmy was a bit taken aback. She'd wanted him to kiss her, but he'd misread her as wanting him to act as a father figure. If she closest she could get to him both mentally and physically was through role-playing, she might as well play along.

"...D-Daddy... Am I good...?" Emmy whispered, reeling at the feeling of calling him that nickname. "Tell me I'm good... Please..." She could feel the professor's chuckles rumbling deep in his chest.

"You didn't need to ask me that. Of course you're a good girl." Emmy could feel both of their hearts thudding hard in their chests. "I, um, not to break character, but," he cleared his throat, "we should probably head back to my bedroom. Er, n-not for anything lewd, of course!" The man stammered. "Just in case someone comes out here."

"Y-Yeah." Emmy nodded. He had a point. Even if it was a bit embarrassing to go back to his room, it wouldn't compare to the embarrassment of being caught doing whatever _this_ was. Sycamore gave a curt nod in response and let go to stand up, then held his hand out to help her up. He held her hand all the way to his room, giving Emmy ample time to commit every bump and ridge on his hand to her memory.

They creaked the door open together. While Emmy stood admiring the canopy bed, distracting herself from the fact she was in a man's room, the professor went to sit on the bed, stretching his legs out and leaning against the headboard. The girl hesitated before following suit. Though anxious about being on _his_ bed, she had to admit it was very comfortable. Sycamore held his arm out and open, providing a space for her to sit in. Tentatively, she took the offer and sat next to him, sighing in comfort when he held her tight against his side.

"This is a rather... odd arrangement." Sycamore noted. Emmy nodded a bit. She was shocked herself; somehow she found herself skating on thin ice, inadvertently playing into their shared traumatic experiences to get closer to him. Emmy could see the look of fatherly concern in his eyes earlier, but they betrayed nothing more, nothing less. Even if she couldn't win the man's romantic love, she could at least be close to him in this way.

"Yeah, but... Well, I don't know about you, but _I_ think it's nice and cozy." She exhaled again and leaned into his chest. "I don't remember the last time I've been touched... Usually I do the touching, and it's when I beat people up." Emmy laughed. The professor slowly rubbed her side where he held her.

"You don't need to be so tough all the time," the man chided, "I know, deep down, you're a sweet girl." Emmy flushed as she was bluntly reminded of what they were doing here. "It's okay to be sweet every now and then."

"...I only wanna be sweet to _you,_ Daddy." Emmy shivered, still not over the feeling of calling him "Daddy". She started to sink down to his lap, resting her head on his thigh. Gently moving out from under her, Sycamore got up to pull the blanket over her and laid down next to her. He pulled her close to stroke her head.

"Your Daddy is very proud of his good girl." Hearing the professor's praises made Emmy shiver yet again. "You're still shaking..." he noted. "It's all right. You have nothing to be afraid of. It's only me." The man rubbed her shoulder again to test if his words had gotten through to her. Emmy squirmed a little bit, but as he kept patting her shoulder, she sank into the feeling of being touched.

"...Can I... sleep here with you tonight, Daddy?" Emmy asked, gazing at him with big brown eyes.

"Sure." Sycamore smiled. The professor figured it was normal for family members to share a bed, so he didn't give it a second thought. "Daddy's going to keep reading, but you can sleep here if you want to." He moved to get up, but felt a small tug on his sleeve.

"C...Can I please..." Emmy gulped. "Have a goodnight kiss?" Both of their hearts thudded at the same time. "J-Just... on my forehead!" She hastily clarified.

"...Well, you _did_ ask nicely." Sycamore brushed her bangs to the side to kiss her forehead. "Goodnight, darling." He sat up and grabbed a novel from his nightstand with one hand, leaving the other at his side for Emmy to hold with both of hers.

Emmy could feel the warmth of where his lips had been, making her feel like her entire forehead was burning up. She snuggled into his hand, pressing her face to it as she held it. Before she fell asleep, they both unknowingly followed the same train of thought.

_It's normal for children to sleep with their parents. It's normal for parents to kiss their children. This is fine..._   
_Right?_

* * *

Emmy found herself wandering in a city she didn't know, fumbling through the dark of night. She was chasing a man in front of her, but every time she looked away, he changed. Her father, Uncle Leon, Professor Layton, Professor Sycamore, and the cycle would then repeat again. Though he was walking slowly, Emmy could never catch up, as if she were trudging through molasses. Any attempt to call out was in vain, as there was no indication he'd heard her.

_Wait! Please, wait for me!_

* * *

Emmy woke with a start in an unfamiliar bed. It took a few moments for her to remember where she was. A canopy hung above her, she was swathed in silken sheets, and Professor Sycamore was next to her, reading the same book. Light was beginning to peek through the sheer curtains covering the windows.

"Did you not go to sleep?" Sycamore jumped a bit, startled by Emmy's voice. "Doesn't look like you moved at all."

"I did for a little bit. Chronic insomnia means late to bed, early to rise for me." Sycamore grimaced. He noticed her sweating a bit, her eyes still wild after her nightmare. "The real question is why _you're_ awake. It's still early and we don't have anything planned for today. You have ample time to rest."

"Oh, just a bad dream..." Emmy looked away. It felt odd to wake up and immediately see a character from her dream in person.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" She shook her head. "I understand. I've had my fair share as well. One reason I prefer not to sleep." Sycamore started softly scratching Emmy's head as she laid by him. She hummed in response.

"Can I have a hug, Daddy?" Sycamore put his novel back on the nightstand. He sank down under the covers and pulled them up over both of them before holding her tight. He rested his head on her shoulder.

"It can be hard to believe in the moment, but nightmares are just that. They're not real, and they can't hurt you." The man whispered. Emmy hugged him back to lessen any and all of the remaining space between them.

"Besides the dream, it's really comfy to sleep here." Emmy said quietly. The professor rubbed her back with one hand.

"There's plenty of room. Come by whenever you'd like." He responded warmly.  
  
 _But what if that's every day?_ The girl wondered, but said nothing, opting to dig her fingertips into the cloth of his shirt in silence.

"Um, can you..." Emmy started to ask.

"Hold you like this until you fall back asleep?" Sycamore ventured a guess, making Emmy blush and giggle a bit.

"Am I that predictable now?" She snickered. "Yes. Please?"

"Of course, darling." After that, he stopped talking to give her peace and quiet. Emmy's eyes slowly began to close again as she was soothed by the professor's heartbeat. Within minutes, she was asleep again in his arms, calmed by the knowledge he'd stay awake and defend her from any other terrible dreams she may have.

* * *

After Professor Sycamore's offer, Emmy began to spend the night with him more and more often, eventually leading to it becoming a nightly occurrence. She started out by coming to the living area of the ship in the middle of the night and tapping his shoulder, but when it became a norm, Sycamore began waiting in his room to save time. Every night it was the same; Sycamore would read while Emmy nuzzled into his side and fell asleep. Not once in the weeks they'd been doing this did the girl catch him sleeping.

Emmy still wasn't sure what Sycamore saw her as. In fact, she still wasn't sure what her _own_ feelings for Sycamore were. Yearning? Love? Lust? She was never good at pinpointing her feelings, especially regarding _this_ sort of thing. All she knew was she felt safe and comfortable with him, and that she savored the few times she could coax forehead kisses from him. They'd both just accepted this routine as if it was completely normal for a professor and his colleague's assistant to do.

Tonight was a night like any other, with Emmy quietly creaking the door open while making sure nobody saw. In her arm she clutched a change of clothes and pajamas, as usual. The girl had been looking forward to this; today's investigation had been an especially draining one, and Emmy was mentally drained from dealing with the idiocy of Hoogland's misogynistic "tradition" of locking brides away as sacrifices to a merciless god. She just wanted to cool off and relax, easing her mind away from her indignation.

"Daddy..." Emmy looked across the room to see Sycamore sitting upright in bed with a book, as usual. "I missed you today." She hurried over to jump on the bed and hug him. Of course they saw each other every day; the entire group searched for the Azran eggs together after all, but this was different. Neither of them could let their guard down during the day, in public, in front of everyone else on the Bostonius. It would be unthinkable.

"Hi, sweet-pea." Sycamore brushed some stray hairs out of her face. "Today was rough, wasn't it." He sighed. The man had agreed with her sentiments about the village's customs.

"Yeah..." Emmy didn't respond beyond that. She didn't want to think about it anymore, she just wanted to be comfortable in her nightly routine with the professor.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" Sycamore asked, tilting his head. "I ought to spoil my little girl more often." He laughed, trying to break the morose feeling in the air. Emmy's ears perked up at his question.

 _Anything?_ She had been considering an idea for several days now, but was always too chicken to propose it.

"I, um..." Emmy swallowed. "I... miss when was really little and I would take baths together with my dad..." She looked away to hide the red blooming on her cheeks. "Not in a weird way or anything! A lot of families do it, so..." Sycamore was similarly flustered, but tried to hide it as to not embarrass her more than she already was. "W-We don't have to! Forget I said anything!"

"...I-If it's really what you want, I suppose it's fine..." Sycamore finally said after remaining silent to think about her proposition. She had a point about it being normal for family members to do, right? So it _must_ be fine. "I'll run a bubble bath so I, er, _neither_ of us see anything." He stammered.

Sycamore's confused tone made Emmy a bit anxious, but she hugged him in thanks nonetheless before he got up. She hadn't had a proper bath in years, let alone with another person; most of the places she'd resided at only had tiny showers, and she was usually too busy to treat herself to one anyway. Even though the prospect of a warm, soapy bath was calming, her heart couldn't stop racing at the thought of sharing the tub with Professor Sycamore.

"The bath is ready." Sycamore called from his private bathroom. "I'll get in first... J-Just tell me when you're ready and I'll open my eyes again!" 

Emmy followed his voice and walked to the bathroom. As she stripped her clothes off, she tried to convince herself that the professor was only being considerate and not disgusted at the prospect of seeing her body. She gingerly walked up to the bathtub, nearly overflowing with suds. Raised up a few marble steps and sunken into the the floor, it looked more like a hot tub than a bathtub. Sycamore was there, no glasses on for once. True to his word, he was clenching his eyes shut. Emmy's heart skipped a beat as she got a glimpse of his shirtless figure. She gulped as she stepped into the water and slid down deep enough to cover her body with bubbles.

"O-Okay..." Emmy said, somewhat redundantly because the man could hear and feel her get into the water. He blinked his eyes open.

"Hi!" Sycamore smiled. All traces of his previous anxiety seemingly vanished into thin air. "Want me to wash your hair?" Emmy nodded shyly. She scooted closer to him and turned around, taking care to not sit on his lap. He grabbed a small cup next to the tub and scooped up some water. "Tip your head back." The girl did as she was told, and Sycamore delicately ladled water over her head. He reached for shampoo and squeezed a dollop into his hands, lathering it before beginning to scrub Emmy's hair.

"Ooh... That feels nice..." Emmy sank down into the water more, melting at the feeling of his fingertips on her scalp. The man chuckled behind her.

"I'm glad. I've had lots of practice."

"Really?" Emmy figured that from his reaction earlier that he'd never bathed with anyone before.

"Of course. You've seen my hair. It takes a decent amount of work to maintain."

"Ohh." She said, realizing what he meant. After that, they sat in silence for a time, focusing on the physical comfort of being in the bath. After conditioner and rinsing, Emmy felt like she'd been at a spa the entire time.

"All done. I'll, er, close my eyes again." Sycamore clenched his eyes shut again as Emmy hurried to get a towel, wrapping it around her bust.

"Okay."

"Now, you do the same, please." Emmy found herself a bit annoyed at the ordeal, but she wasn't sure why. Was it because she was comfortable bathing nude with others, unlike _some_ people, or was it because she was hoping to steal a glance...?

"Oh, y-yeah, sure." She confirmed distractedly. The girl kept her eyes shut as she heard him unplug the drain, rise out of the water, and grab his bathrobe hanging on the door.

"All set." Emmy opened her eyes to see Sycamore, focused intently on the mirror as he brushed some sort of oil through his hair. She left him to obsess over his appearance and walked out to the bedroom to change into her pajamas, a soft pair with a faint striped pattern.

Emmy crawled into bed, pulling the blanket above her chin. She peered back over at the bathroom, the door open just a crack. Though she wanted to stay awake to say goodnight, Emmy was entirely too relaxed and cozy in bed after an exhausting day to keep her eyes open a mere second more.

* * *

Emmy barely woke up to the feeling of Sycamore's weight sinking onto the bed. She kept her eyes closed, the light of his lamp bright in her face.

"Emmy..." Sycamore whispered. "Emmy, are you awake...?"

 _Why would he ask me that?_ Emmy wondered to herself. Did the man need to be sure she was asleep before he could go to sleep as well? And if so, why? Emmy _had_ always been curious to see the professor while he was sleeping. Maybe this was her chance? She kept pretending to sleep, slowing and evening out her breathing. Sycamore tried rubbing her head to get a reaction. Emmy didn't budge.

"Well, good night then." Sycamore gave up and inferred that the girl must be deep in sleep. He leaned down to kiss her forehead. Emmy could hear his breath and feel the warmth emanating from his face before he finally planted his lips under her bangs.

 _He kisses my forehead when I'm asleep, too?_ Emmy tried to hold back her giddiness as to not betray herself. But, for some reason, the heat didn't go away. The man's face was still only inches away from hers. _Is he just... looking at me?_

"I love you..." Sycamore kissed her on the lips as she "slept". Emmy did everything in her power to keep feigning unconsciousness, against her immediate reaction to be shocked. It wasn't just a peck either; though Emmy couldn't open her mouth to reciprocate, Sycamore kept at it, licking and nipping at her lips. With a final smack, he broke apart from her. "I love you _so_ much, darling..."

Emmy felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest. Wasn't this all just supposed to be a bizarre coping mechanism in the form of role-play? A rustling noise jolted her out of her thoughts. The girl could hear the professor's breathing deepen, and something started moving rhythmically under the sheets next to her. Emmy peered down as subtly as possible, only to to see a tent in the blanket.

_No way..._

"Oh, baby girl..." Sycamore groaned, barely more than a whisper. He shoved his hand into his pajama pants and started pumping. Emmy could feel him shudder next to her. "I didn't think I'd... make it..." He muttered to himself. Emmy focused intently on his words, trying to drown out the sounds of skin slapping on skin. "Bathing with... my sweet, little... _Ngh!_ " Sycamore lost the ability to speak, sputtering as he got closer. "D-Darling, I, I'm!" Emmy felt the movement stop as she heard his shallow breaths slowly return to normal.

This man had just jacked off right next to her, to the _thought_ of her.

Emmy didn't know whether to be flattered or irritated, or maybe even creeped out? No, she wanted him too, so she wasn't particularly concerned. Mostly, she wished the professor could've just told her from the beginning that he wanted her romantically. Was he just using her for some sick fetish? But, then again... She hadn't told him the truth, either. Emmy began to wish she'd just immediately went back to sleep so she could've been free from this forbidden knowledge.

After some thought, Emmy decided she wanted to surprise Professor Sycamore by immediately "waking up" and saying she caught him red, er, white-handed? But as she opened her eyes and intended to do so, she finally caught a glimpse of him lost in his dreams. He hadn't even bothered to turn the lamp off or remove his glasses. He looked so peaceful, the usual signs of stress gone from his face. There was even the hint of a smile on his face as he dozed. Emmy couldn't bring herself to wake him up to immediately embarrass him during the only time she'd ever seen him look so at ease. She took his glasses off, reached over to put them on the nightstand, and clicked the lamp off before returning to his side to join him in slumber.

* * *

After a dreamless night, Emmy blinked her eyes open to the usual sight: Sycamore propped up against the headboard and some pillows, leisurely reading a book. She stretched her arms out with a hum as she woke up, being purposely noisy to get the professor's attention. It worked.

"Good morning!" Sycamore said, sounding as cheerful as the man could get. Nothing was out of the ordinary from any other day.

"Mornin'." Emmy yawned. She suddenly recalled what she'd seen last night and prepared to chip away at the man in front of her. She tilted her head and looked at him. "Daddy... Can I kiss you?" Relying on her trusty excuse, she followed it up with, "It's not weird for kids to kiss their parents." Sycamore froze, not revealing a single thought through his expression.

"Um, I suppose it's fine..." Sycamore murmured, turning to face his cheek towards her. Emmy ignored the gesture and went straight for his lips. He let out a confused grunt as the girl held his face in place to kiss him. She wanted to go at it longer than a measly minute, but he refused to open his mouth, so she drew away from him.

"Thank you, Daddy." Emmy said, gazing at him as she moved backward. Sycamore sat there shaking, his book having long fallen out of his hands. Before last night, she would've registered his face as disgusted shock, but she knew better now. "Kissing family members on the lips is normal in a lot of cultures."

"Yes, but..." Sycamore gulped, "Not like _that **—**_ "

"Daddy." Emmy cut him off. "Your baby girl wants to play with you." She blinked sweetly at him. The professor was crumbling before her eyes.

"I, er, w-what would you like to play...?" Sycamore asked, still trying hide his worry under a plastered smile. "I have a deck of cards..." He added, his voice cracking.

"Oh no, Daddy..." Emmy chuckled darkly. "I want to play the game you hid from me last night, while you thought I was sleeping." Sycamore's face turned a sickly, pale hue as he registered her words. "Having fun without me isn't fair at all... You're a _bad_ daddy." She smirked.

"You... were... awake...?" Sycamore's voice was hollow, and he stared right through the girl as if trying to disassociate himself out of the situation. Emmy hugged the arm limp at his side and nuzzled into him. "I am... a bad..." He murmured to himself.

"All I want," Emmy gazed up at him, "is that you share your toys with your baby girl, too." She stretched up to whisper into his ear. "If you wanted to fuck me, you could've just asked, you know." He shook his head.

"No... You missed your father the other day, so you wanted me to ** _—_** " 

" _Kiss_ me. I wanted you to _kiss_ me." Emmy laughed. Sycamore tilted his head.

"But you called me 'Daddy' back, and..." The man muttered in confusion.

"You're a DILF, so it was just, um, fun to call you that?" Emmy tried to explain.

"I'm a _what?_ "

"Look..." Emmy began to whisper in his ear again. "It doesn't matter. Your baby girl just wants to _play,_ alright?" Sycamore swallowed again as she accentuated the word.

"I'm... sorry you had to see that, last night." The man murmured. Emmy snickered and started to climb onto his lap.

"Was last night the first time?" Emmy purred. "Or is that why I never see you sleeping?" She sat straddling Sycamore's outstretched legs. "Does Daddy need to cum to the thought of his little girl before he can get to sleep?" Sycamore's face had long turned from a pale white to a deep scarlet. He barely nodded his head, looking away from her, but it was still enough for Emmy to notice. "Yeah?" She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Y... Yes..." As Emmy scooted forward onto his lap, she felt something stiff. She smirked as she rubbed herself back and forth against it. "Emmy, d-don't..." Sycamore sputtered, so she stopped, her crotch rested firmly on top of his.

"Okay. What do you wanna do then?" Emmy asked. "Wanna take another bath with me? I heard you liked that a _lot._ " Sycamore kept looking down and away, trembling at the feeling of her on his lap and at the thought of last night's bath. "Did you close your eyes in the bathroom so you wouldn't get hard?" She pressed down on his lap. "Did you make my close my eyes because you got hard anyway?" From the way Sycamore's eyes shot open, Emmy knew she'd hit the nail on the head. "You're such a good daddy, trying to protect your little girl's innocence, making sure she doesn't see the big, fat cock that you wanna slam into her..."

"D... Don't talk like that!" Sycamore interrupted, not quite a yell, but certainly louder than anything else he'd said this morning. "I..." He turned to face her. "I don't want to hear my baby girl speak with such vulgar language." Emmy was surprised, but happy that she'd finally gotten a response.

 _He's more into the "daddy" thing than I thought!_ Emmy put on a softer, slightly higher-pitched tone to reply. "You're right. I'm sorry, Daddy." She leaned in and hugged him tight with her entire body. "I love you, Daddy." Emmy sighed sweetly.

Something in Sycamore finally cracked at those four little words. He grabbed her ass with one hand to pull her close, humping against her legs above him. As he did this, he lurched forward to kiss her deep, moaning as he forced his way into her mouth. Emmy hummed and rocked her hips back into his thrusts. The man broke away from the kiss, slurping back some saliva that dripped from the corner of his mouth.

"C-Can you show Daddy your body... to see how much you've grown?" Sycamore was practically drooling as he gawked at the woman in front of him.

"Anything for you, Daddy." Emmy smiled and started to strip, her large breasts bouncing out of her pajama top and she pulled it off. Sycamore could only stare as she worked her bottoms off as well. After mere moments, she was completely bare in front of of him. "Well, what do you think?"

"Oh, _wow..._ " Sycamore looked her up and down, licking his lips. Suddenly, he pressed his face into her chest, practically smothering himself as he held her close. "These are too lewd for a sweet little girl like you..." The man panted before grabbing one in each hand. Emmy squeaked as he obsessively fondled her breasts, every now and then leaving little kisses on her nipples. His hands moved down to her stomach and gently rubbed along her hips. "You, you want to know what I want to do...?" Sycamore murmured. Emmy nodded, giving him a lustful look. The professor rubbed his finger around her pubic bone and up to her navel. "Daddy wants to pump all of his cum inside his little girl..." He tapped the bottom of her tummy, making Emmy tremble. "Right in here."

"Mm... Yeah, give it to me, Daddy!" Emmy leaned onto her back and spread her legs wide open. "I want it all!" At that, Sycamore tore his pajamas off as fast as he could and lunged for the girl, barely giving Emmy any time to take in the sight of him nude. He weaseled his arms under her outstretched legs and aimed himself into her. With a groan, Sycamore _slammed_ into Emmy, making her squeak in pleasure.

"Oh god... Oh, please, baby girl..." Sycamore panted incoherently. He looked down at Emmy and felt a wave of heat rush down his entire body, dropping her legs in the process. "You're so _cute!_ My baby girl is so, so cute...!" Sycamore desperately leaned forward and smashed his lips against hers, nearly headbutting her with his intensity. Emmy moaned back into his eager kissing, equally desperate for contact.

All those weeks ago in Mosinnia, Emmy never would've expect things to turn out like this; it was beyond her wildest dreams, beyond her wildest fantasies even. She didn't know how it turned from an evening conversation in the lounge to nightly meetings that had finally, _finally_ resulted in sex, but the girl didn't question it. As long as she was here in the moment, getting her sweet spot rammed by the sexy older man on top of her, nothing else mattered.

"Daddy, please..." Emmy managed to speak. "Tell me I'm... a good girl!" She begged, ending the statement with another moan and grabbed at his back. Sycamore chuckled weakly between grunts.

"Of course you are." The man tried to talk above the echo of their skin slapping together. "My little girl is the best," he pulled out, "the sweetest," he slammed back in, "the most beautiful baby girl in the world!" Emmy yelped in pleasure, feeling Sycamore's cock throb every time he complimented her. She reached down to play with her neglected clit, skipping the usual teasing and going straight to vigorously rubbing it. The friction shot sparks of electricity up her torso and added another dimension of pleasure to the feeling of being completely stuffed with cock.

Though far at the back of Emmy's mind she knew that she should be quiet as to not reveal their relationship to anyone else on the Bostonius, she couldn't hold back from screaming as she came, her entire body shaking from the white-hot force of her orgasm. The professor kept thrusting above her, relishing the feeling of her tightening up around him and rutting into her oversensitive sex even faster. Finally, Sycamore came too, fulfilling his promise by flooding Emmy with his cum. He didn't dare pull out until every last drop was squeezed deep inside her pussy. A few minutes later, he slowly dragged himself out of her and laid back against the headboard of the bed again. Emmy shakily rolled over and crawled up to be by his side.

"Emmy..." Sycamore breathed. "I don't think... it's normal for parents and children to do that..." He said with a half-smile.

"Shut up!" Emmy held back a snort as she weakly punched him in the arm. "We don't have to use those weird nicknames anymore."

"Weird?" Sycamore frowned a bit. "I quite liked them..."

"No, I mean," Emmy snickered, "we can still call each other that, but we don't have to role-play _all_ the time."

"Suit yourself." Sycamore mock pouted. "But, just know..." He pulled her close to him, petting her head. "You'll always be my widdle baby girl!" The man said in a baby voice.

"Oh my god, shut _up!_ " Emmy laughed at what a dork the professor was being, but also laughed with joy at the fact that he was finally, officially, _her_ dork.


End file.
